Your Favorite Martian goes to Hogwarts
by Final Fantasy Fan of Awesome
Summary: The first adventure of what will be many (a promise many have heard before, I know) of BEFORE YFM became the Band we all know on YouTube. In this one, DeeJay, Benatar, and Puff all go to Hogwarts and meet Axel in year 6. Likely won't be a slash, though if enough people ask I may do it. I don't own anything, and yes. There are really that many foreshadow refrences. Please Review.
1. Prologue: Puff centric

_**A/N I don't own any YFM songs or characters, nor Harry Potter (when it starts happening). All I did was fuse some Ideas. As I mentioned previously, this entire thing will all be merely one adventure YFM has before becoming a successful band. I plan on publishing them all.**_

Puff, Age 8

I couldn't believe this. My dad went psycho and killed my mom. Too drunk to realize what the hell he was doing, most likely.

And people wonder why I'm more mature and, so they say, more of a jerk than 8 year olds should be. God, they don't know the half. Hell, they don't know the eighth.

And now I'm living with my obese grandmother in fucking MISSOURI. Heh, maybe there's a reason the state's name sounds like misery.

She was on my dad's side. I remember having met her before; she was actually a very sweet lady. Nice to everybody, not a bad bone in her body, etc. But I knew she had raised the monstrosity known as my father, the all-important sperm donor.

And now, I was standing out Riverpoint Elementary, which is next to Riverpoint Middle, which is next to Riverpoint high, whose graduates usually wind up going to the McDonalds two blocks away for the rest of their miserable lives. Say what you want, Missouri is Miserable. I will never be happy here, I thought.

I was so busy with my internal tirade I didn't notice the kid until I bumped into him. If it weren't for his blue hoodie and overly large headphones, his tiny disc player (seriously, I thought? A disc player?) would have smashed into a useless pile of disc player scraps on the bus floor. He was a tall (for a kid) black kid, with curly hair and a slightly oblong body shape. He barely spoke over the incident.

A kid behind us, a real wit, shouted "Hey _deej_ why don't you sock him? He almost ruined your _precious _music player." I don't know what possessed me. I whirled around, and glared at the kid.

He looked to be a fifth grader. Top of the top guy (so he would have thought) I'm sure, and he had a boy that could only metaphorically be called a brick beside him; tough, thick, and not too bright.

I had dealt with one of these poseurs all my life, though granted this one probably didn't reek of alcohol and bruised ego. I don't know h=who this black kid was, but I could tell this wasn't the only abuse he suffered; hell, it probably wasn't the only abuse he suffered from this particular jackass.

"Hey Mr Douchebag, I can see that you are a dumbass. I bumped into him. Why don't you crawl back to the hellhole you crawled out of and make the bus a happier place?" I could tell I shocked them all; this runt of a third grader stood up to the mighty fifth grade king and dared to call him _two_ swear words. Now, the _intelligent_ thing to do would have been to report me. As it was, he simply sneered.

"Check it out guys! Deej has a boyfriend!" I jumped over my seat and ran toward him, jumping at him in the process. I grabbed his shirt and, while lacking the strength to sufficiently move him any, I had 100% gotten the attention of everybody on the bus. That is, except for the Bus Driver. I knew his type too; the kind that sees a kid and a wife suffering obvious abuse and a Douchebag looking pleased with himself, and not drawing lines or paying his attention; it has nothing to do with their safe, quiet life, and it was easier to let the rugrat and bimbo fend for themselves.

"Listen. Listen, all of you. I don't care who any of you are. I care that you keep your noses in your business. Capiche?" I glared at all of them, taking their silence as consent.

I walked back to the black kid. He was staring at me with one part awe, one part confusion, and two parts gratitude. I stuck out my hand.

"Puff."

"My name is Dexter…but honestly, I kind of like being called DeeJay. It's a nickname I got tagged with on account of me always carrying discs…" I smiled at the black boy, DeeJay. I had the feeling this would be the start of an awesome friendship.

Fast Forward Two Years

"Alright class, this is our foreign exchange student from Britain. As I'm sure you all know, Brock left for Britain himself. Benjamin, please take your new seat next to Puff." The kid was actually pretty tall. He had impressive blond hair-impressive because of how he pulled it off. It covered one of his eyes, the other being a piercing blue. He automatically struck me as a mellow kid who doesn't know what the hell is going on, but can fake it well enough to pass for intelligent. It took brains to do that, ironically, and most those kinds of kids are smarter then they fake themselves out to be.

I might have been wrong. I was getting good at reading people; Grandma said it meant I might take over the world.

At any rate, I noticed that some of the girls were pointing at him…and what he was carrying.

The kid had a freaking guitar. The teacher didn't acknowledge it, probably because she didn't like him having it, but there were no rules against it. I noticed the casual way he held it; he probably took it everywhere. It was a wooden security blanket with strings. The teacher started doing her blah blah routine, and I didn't pay much attention. I was interested for what was coming up soon…

Music class.

Sure enough, she dismissed us, mentioning homework. The new kid, Benjamin, had taken studious notes. But I noticed a lot of doodles in the margins, of guitars and music notes. We traded in a bully for a music fanatic. It was a hell of a trade off; hell, one day we may even make a band.

I grinned at that thought as DeeJay walked up behind me. "Yo, Puff. What's your take on the Brit?" Puberty hadn't really came around yet, but DeeJay's voice had deepened slightly since third grade. I noticed quietly that he was actually a little wider. It had been a few weeks since I saw my best friend, and his curled hair was coerced into being straight for one day. It was still sticking straight up, of course.

Mine wasn't much better. My hair looked like it came straight out of a JRPG; I thought it looked cool. I had found a red hoodie in Grandma's attic that surprisingly fit comfortably. I was wearing it now.

"He seemed relatively intelligent. The way he fondled that guitar, he probably has a music fetish. Not that I could necessarily blame him, ya know?" DeeJay nodded.

In music class, Benjamin stunned us all. He had a little squeak of a British voice, but when he sang it deepened a little and got smoother. He also developed an American accent while singing. He looked sheepish when questioned about it, and explained he grew up listening to American pop singers, and that's how he learned to sing. He wasn't bad on his guitar either; what was really impressive was he could play it and sing in smooth synchronization.

He went from nobody to class star in forty minutes. I had been trying to do that for three years, and he swoops in and casually does it, and he actually looked embarrassed at the attention. It ticked me off. Surprisingly, DeeJay was pretty calm about it. He wasn't impressed or unimpressed. He was simply DeeJay.

Regardless, Ben and I struck up a conversation. He admitted to hating being called Ben or Benjamin, and had come up with a blending of his name and his favorite Instrument; Benatar. I had to admit, it sounded pretty cool. I kind of liked the kid, and DeeJay and I silently agreed the Devil Duo, as we were called, was now a Tyrant Triplet.

Fast forward one more year

I sat, stunned at the letter. It had come with the others, but it even smelled different. It said I was accepted to a school of witchcraft and wizardry called Hogwarts…at first I thought it was a joke.

Then I called Benatar.

"Puff, you are NOT going to believe this! I got the same letter! I'M GOING BACK TO BRITAIN! With you, no less! We should talk to Dee-" Another call bleeped through. I swapped over. It was DeeJay.

"Puff, I got this wack letter sayin I'm a wizard. This is bullshit, man. Magic aint real." I sat, blown away for a moment. Three kids all getting the same letter at the same time couldn't be a joke; besides, Puff didn't know anybody smart or good enough to pull this off. It was legitimate.

They were going to Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 1: Benatar centric

_**A/N I own nothing. Also, if you didn't guess, AU for HP and YFM. Two originally important characters from HP are now minor characters. You'll see who.**_

Benatar, Age 11, on the way to Britain

Puff grumbled next to me. DeeJay did his usual routine; listened to music and bobbed his head, his hair moving in near synchronization with it. Once I asked to listen, and was rewarded with Hip Hop from about ten to fifteen years ago, mostly a group called the Beastie Boys. I earned a look of approval by learning to 'play' the lyrics to a few songs on my guitar. Even Puff was impressed when, last month, I danced a Beastie Boys song while singing AND playing. It was hard as hell to synchronize, and while learning I kept tripping. I did it while performing too, but nobody's perfect.

I glanced out the window. The plane was moving quickly-as planes are wont to do-but what was interesting to me was the wings. If, one day, I got my dream and was in a band; we would have to do a show on the wings of a plane. I grinned; we could dress up as super heroes and do it.

Puff glared at me and, I think, my guitar. We were all amazed that they let me take it on the plane. I strummed a chord absently. It sounded good so I kept doing it. I started changing it up a little, and adding in a rhythm. DeeJay looked up, took off the head phones-his head kept bobbing though-and started beat boxing. In a minute, puff's expression changed from glaring to thoughtful. He started rapping.

_My grandmamma used to tell me one day I would be King._

_And that it would be me to put these dreams into a sling_

_And fling 'em like a bullet til they beam the whole ruling regime_

_In the melon. Then I tell 'em that I'll one day reign supreme…_

All and all it sounded pretty good. People on the plane were taking notice and bobbing their heads and smiling. Puff ended the song, and they applauded. A few even tossed money at us. It wasn't a lot, but it was something. It planted an idea in my mind…

Before any of that though, I needed to focus on the near and present future. Magic…could it really be real? To think that not only was magic real, but there was an entire school devoted to teaching the young to utilize their powers…

I was dumbfounded. I was amazed I had this power… this magic. Of course, I had always believed music was magic, and I definitely knew music.

Two hours later we touched down. There was a nearby bar called the Leaky Cauldron, and the letter instructed us to go there.

I don't remember the place specifically. It seemed like any other pub. When we went in, the bartender (not as seedy looking as other bartenders) took one glance at us, gestured at us to follow, and we followed. I supposed we must have looked odd; a blonde brit in a polo and slacks (I liked to dress immaculately, and suits were expensive), a round black kid holding a CD thing, and a scrawny white kid in a red hoodie and jeans; he probably singled us out. He probably got a lot of rabble like us.

He was an immaculate man. He was anywhere from 35 to 50… taller than my dad

(ohmygodmydadmydadmydad)

was, bald in hair and comfortable in width. A name tag read MAC and he stepped into the back. He pulled out a bottle and tapped a brick. He paused and looked at us expectantly. We needed to pay attention. He proceeded to tap a multiple of bricks in a specific pattern; I committed it to memory.

The man walked back to his bar. An immensely tall man in a fedora with, I kid you not, a walking stick etched with runes sat. Something subtle about the pub was different, though I was unsure of what…

(_**A/N anybody who gets that reference and posts a comment about it? I will turn this into a threeway and bring them in too. Granted, It will be cameos. But still. You will also garner my most immense respect.)**_

I forgot them quickly. When I turned around, it was a whole new world. People in robes bustled about; Puff and I were staring when DeeJay voiced an uncomfortable truth.

"How the hell we gonna buy shit without no money?"

I nodded somberly. Puff closed his eyes and sighed; he knew what having no money was like on a scale most eleven year olds didn't. Suddenly, a Giant of a man looking like nothing more than Thor's black-haired cousin rumbled by. He had a scrawny kid that reminded me of puff next to him; though Puff didn't look so awkward, and he didn't have glasses. The large man spoke in a vaguely Irish accent.

Puff saw them too. He bounded forward, poking the large man slightly. He looked up and flinched under the big man's gaze; I saw it in his face that he hated the fact that he did. Both expressions were gone almost before they came. You had to know the guy.

"Excuse me, sir; we're extremely lost and very broke. Could you tell us where to go and how to get some money?" The big man gave a non-committal grunt.

"There's a trust fund fir firs' years without money. I'm just takin Harry here tah Gringotts. You and your buddies can tag along. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, grounds and gameskeeper at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Pleased to make your acquaintances. Who are you fellahs?"

"I'm Puff. Blondie goes by Benatar and the black one goes by DeeJay." The man grunted again, and this time spoke to us. I still had my guitar and DeeJay his usual music stuff.

"Electronics rarely work on Hogwarts; yeh may catch hell fir carryin around a guitar, though the rules don't oppose you doing it." He winked at me. We lumbered off…

About an hour later, after some boring shopping (you know those details. Also skipping the harry and his wand scene. Those I didn't molest XD)

Mr Ollivander looked at me next. He also looked at my guitar. His face grew thoughtful. After seeing Harry's outbursts and failures, I was cowed into not saying anything. DeeJay and Harry were still getting fitted for robes; Madame Malkin found my size almost immediately and I was ushered on my way.

He stroked his chin in thought. "Benatar you said? Not a common name, child…but you aren't a common child. Yes. My store specializes in three cores; I won't bore you with details, but before you even try anything I want you to try this wand." He reached under his desk and pulled out a box that was different colored from every other box in the store. "This wand is Eleven and a half inches long, Mr. Benatar-" (since I had dropped my surname altogether)

(Whydaddywhydaddywhydaddy)

"-and has a core of Siren Tongue. This wand is a very passionate thing, and is admittedly a little project of mine. Give it a flick." I pulled out the wand and received sudden inspiration. I picked up my guitar, and placed the wand _inside_ the hole on my guitar. I did this a few times to be sure I could do it again. I then strummed my guitar. The resounding sound was one of the most beautiful I had ever produced. I started singing, and my voice was stronger and smoother than it ever had been. Harry watched in awe as Mr Ollivander gave me a small smile.

_Planet Earth_

_I need a friend_

_Cause I'm on the outside_

_Lookin in_

_I'm just an alien_

_I'm just an alien_

_Feeling lost_

_But never found_

_I find myself_

_Being pushed around_

_Because I'm an alien_

_I'm just an alien_

_OOOoooOOOooohhh…_

Harry applauded enthusiastically. Mr. Ollivander smiled his smile. "Normally wands are around ten galleons…but this one, Mr Benatar, had no pricing. Since you are my guinea pig, I will give it to you at reduced price SO LONG AS every year, you send me a report on how the wand performed throughout." I enthusiastically agreed; just as the door opened I was handing over the wizard money…

(A/N Sorry for three AN's in one chapter, and also sorry for such a long time between postings. I've been busy, and I sorta left my fanfics behind. I've picked this one back up, I still love the concept, and it seemed to get good reception. Talk to me! Review! If you have any Ideas you want me to incorporate, ask. I'll at the least think about it. Thanks, readers!)


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